We Shouldn't Have Met
by WhimsicallyAwkward
Summary: He likes something in the way her eyes are fierce. She likes something in the way his eyes are golden. They don't feel the need to go past first names, and their living together is almost inevitable. Asking questions isn't important. What's important is that they've lost themselves, and this helps. Sort of. AU Some OOC in tune with the story.


**Title: We Shouldn't Have Met**

**Author: WhimsicallyAwkward**

**Fandoms: The Mortal Instruments and the Percy Jackson universe.**

**A/N: Okay I'm honestly not sure where this came from but I'm pretty positive of where I want to take it. It's definitely not a common story or a common pairing that I've got going on but I fell a little in love with the story. If it is as well received by you guys as I hope it is I will continue it :)**

**Also this story takes place disregarding the events of Blood of Olympus book, and alters certain events of City of Heavenly Fire.**

**And this is directed to any of my Percy Jackson followers - I know this isn't quite what you had in mind for my next story but do see how you like it, ya know, if you love Jace as much as I do.**

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><p>He likes something in the way her eyes are fierce.<p>

She likes something in the way his eyes are golden.

They both like the way the other's eyes show the pain that they themselves drown in.

He orders her another shot, takes the seat next to her. He smiles at her - an almost smile. It flashes a ghost image of that old carefree spirit.

She doesn't smile back, but he doesn't mind.

She likes the chip in his tooth; likes the golden hair, and golden parlor.

He reminds her of Apollo in a way, but Apollo's eyes have never shone with that gloom.

"I'm Annabeth."

"Jace."

He likes that she's tall, and blonde, and everything Clary isn't. He could never mistake her storm grey eyes for Clary's green.

They don't feel the need to go past first names.

She's broken, and he's exhausted, and they sit in almost silence.

Another drink later, he decides to ask her what brings her here.

She's always been blunt, and she's so tired she doesn't care.

"My boyfriend is gone."

He nods. He doesn't feel the need to ask if that means he's left or if he's dead.

He knows Clary would have sympathized. 'I'm sorry', she might have said. But he's never understood the mundane use of 'I'm sorry' and he doesn't even know if he has enough left in him to actually sympathize.

"He's been gone for a while now."

She looks over at him, eyes almost too fierce and broken for him to meet.

"My friends think I should take better care of myself. They cornered me, and I came here."

"Fuck them."

She appraises him, her blonde hair limp around her face. Jace thinks that she would be beautiful if she didn't have defeat lining her face, and whiskey on her breath.

"What about you?"

Jace looks away, and she takes the moment to look at him.

She's never seen anyone like him before, and she's not so sure what to make of him.

She looks, and she sees scars lining his arms; scars peaking above his neckline.

They're odd scars, and she discounts him cutting himself immediately. If they were self inflicted, surely they wouldn't be so beautiful.

They have unique shapes to them. She follows one with her eyes - traces the curling line.

Something about these scars on this man seems normal. She's only just noticed them, but now she can't imagine him without them.

He looks up again, and her eyes flash to meet his.

"My girlfriend is gone."

She narrows her eyes at his words, sees the fragility in his face.

A soft laugh, devoid of any humor, escapes his mouth. "She's been gone for a while now."

"Did your friends tell you to get over it too?"

"My friends are afraid of me."

She doesn't quite know what to say to that.

This boy, this man, is so un-mortal like that she toys with the idea that he's a demigod.

It's possible he's a Roman, so she sneaks a glance at the crook of his arm. She only sees more white scars; no black tattoo. She feels the disappointment well up.

But maybe he's a god? Maybe she's being played with.

The rage rises, quick and hot as a lash.

"Who are you?"

It's laced with anger. She's done with the gods. They've done nothing to help her, and she's given everything she has to them.

He hears the anger so similar to his own, and his lips turn up.

He meets her gaze. "I'm Jace. And you're Annabeth. Do we need to know more?"

Just as she knows that there is something different with him, he can place that there is something _off_ with her.

She's not a shadowhunter, but she's not a downworlder or a demon either. He doesn't feel like worrying over it. He's long accepted that the world holds many secrets.

"I guess not."

They don't ask any more personal questions, but when they leave that night, they leave together.

_.~._

_*two weeks*_

_.~._

Annabeth doesn't meet the worried gazes. She stares purposefully down at the battle tactics. She drank too much last night, stayed up too late with Jace, and there is a stabbing behind her eyes.

"Annabeth?"

She ignores Piper's tentative attempt at engaging her.

Her head drops, and she digs the palms of her hands into her eyes. She just wants to get out of here.

Camp Half-Blood has felt like a prison ever since she's gotten back. She wants for nothing more than to run away with Percy - but she _can't_. She can't because he's gone, and her heart is shattered.

But she can run away with Jace. Jace, who sees her broken heart and raises her his own.

Piper glances at the others, but she's hesitant to try again.

"Annabeth?" It's Hazel speaking, ignoring the warning look from Frank.

"Annabeth, we're worried about you."

"Hmm." She stares even harder at the plans, willing everyone to leave her alone.

"You haven't been around much. We've…we've noticed that you aren't sleeping in the Poseidon cabin anymore."

"So you're checking in my cabin now?"

She doesn't even register that she's calling it her cabin now.

Her glare could have frozen a Titan, but Hazel is worried for her well being, and she presses forward.

"You aren't sleeping anywhere in the camp, Annabeth. Not in the Athena cabin, or the big house. We're worried about you."

"I'm a big girl Hazel, I can take care of myself."

"We know that! Please, Annabeth, we just want to know that you're safe…it's been a year now -"

Annabeth was on her feet.

"Stop. Stop it. All of you."

She's breathing heavily, and Hazel is crying but she doesn't care.

"Stop acting like you know me. Stop acting like I should be perfect Annabeth again. And don't you _dare _talk about…about…"

She falters, her mask slipping and tears falling.

"Do you want to know why I'm not sleeping here?"

She looks at all of them through blurry vision.

" I'm not sleeping here because you are suffocating me. Because I can't sleep in the Athena cabin with my siblings who don't know what to make of me, and I can't sleep in _his _cabin because he's all around me. And I can't go anywhere else because of the looks everyone gives me. I'm not okay, but that doesn't give you the permission to decide how I go about it. It doesn't give you the permission to decide how to heal me."

She breathed deeply, blinked through her tears.

"Percy…Percy is gone."

She left it at that.

When she's grabbing her stuff, she sees that Piper and Hazel are both crying.

It only makes her angrier. What right did they have to cry? Jason and Frank are sitting right next to them.

She goes to leave, and Leo gives it one last attempt.

"We just want to know where you are staying. That's all. Then we'll leave you alone."

She almost doesn't answer, then she thinks about how much it'll upset them and it gives her some small pleasure.

"I'm living with a guy I met in a bar."

Annabeth leaves. She never wants to come back.

.~.

At night, when she sleeps, she mumbles about monsters, and hell, and Percy.

She's never told him the name of her boyfriend, and she thinks he doesn't know it. But every night that she talks, the name Percy slips past her lips with pain and longing.

There are other names she mutters sometimes. A Jason, and a Nico, and a Hazel, and others

"_Percy!"_

"_Please!"_

"_Bring him back. Open the doors!"_

Some nights she wakes sobbing next to him, and he holds her until she falls into a fitful sleep again. Some nights she's too lost to realize he's there. And some nights, the worst nights, she thinks he's Percy. She'll grab onto him, and she sighs, "Percy," then she opens her eyes, and the moment reality crashes back in, Jace feels himself break.

She talks of strange things.

She talks of war, and gods. Monsters and Tartarus are sometimes mentioned.

He knows what Tartarus is. It's the greek myth of a pit in the underworld.

He's known from the beginning that she's not a mundane, but he didn't care. Now though, with every new nightmare he feels the itch of curiosity strengthen.

He doesn't ask though. Their relationship doesn't involve questions.

If he asks about Percy, she has the right to ask about Clary, and he doesn't think he can handle that. He gets enough questions from the world he's running from.

So he doesn't ask, and she doesn't explain, but they both know that she's different.

.~.

She traces his scars when he sleeps. It's a tricky business. Jace is such a light sleeper, that at first she always woke him.

But she's perfected the art of lightly tracing his skin, and she knows to stop if he twitches.

There's so many lines crisscrossing on his skin that she could trace them for hours. She feels a desire to map them out, and put them on paper.

She want's to know what they mean. She wants to know how he got them.

When she can't sleep, she'll study them for hours.

He has tattoos.

There's one on his left hand. It's of the same swirling pattern that his scars seem to have, and the old Annabeth would have investigated further trying to link them. The Annabeth of the now simply accepts it.

It looks almost like an eye, and she thinks it has roots in the Egyptian eye of horus.

There is another one on his chest.

This one is more complicated. Several intermingling lines making a symbol that Annabeth can't place.

It's beautiful, and it's strange, and it's Jace.

If she was the old Annabeth, she would pour over the books. She would look and find out what exactly Jace _was_.

He's not a demigod, and he looks at her funny whenever she accidentally says 'oh my gods' instead of 'oh my god'.

He never asks though, and she never asks what he means when he says 'by the angel'.

He's not any sort of greek or roman entity, and she's stumped.

She wonders if it should bother her. She's living, and sleeping with a man who is not quite a man. Not a normal man at least.

She pines over Percy, and he pines over his girlfriend, and they both live with each other.

She looks at his scars, and he catches her looking, and they both know that he's different.

.~.

"You know his name is Percy."

It's not a question, and Jace, who had been painting the wall, stopped.

He looked over at Annabeth, her legs curled under her on the couch. She had been sitting with him, talking of lighthearted things and vaguely watching the TV.

This came from nowhere, but Jace is good at concealing shock.

He starts his motions again, slowly brushing over the stain.

"Yes."

Annabeth nods, but Jace isn't looking.

"I talk about him in my sleep, don't I?"

"Yes."

"I've called you…Percy, before haven't I?"

Up and down. His wrist works the brush, up and down.

"Yes."

She doesn't feel the need to apologize, and Jace doesn't think she needs to.

It's silent between them for a while. The low voices of the TV are all that fall upon the room.

He should've been expecting the question, but he's not. It falls into the air, and he clenches the brush tight.

"What's her name?"

Annabeth almost whispers it. She realizes what this is. She's pushing past these rules they've made for themselves. This way of no questions, no problems.

But she wants to know. It burns in her to know the name of the one who he yearns for.

When he turns toward her, she meets his burning gold eyes.

"Clary."

Then he turns back to his painting, she picks up a book, and the names hang over the air.

_Percy. Percy. Percy._

_Clary. Clary. Clary._

.~.

Annabeth's in his apartment alone when someone knocks.

She reaches for her dagger before she realizes it's not there. She left it at camp, and she's never bothered going back.

She looks through the peephole.

It's a dark-haired guy, maybe a little older than her.

She sees swirling black lines on his neck, and peaking out on his wrists. They leave her frozen for a moment.

They are so similar to Jace's scars. When she looks closely, she sees the same white lines on this man's arms.

She throws the door open just as he raises his fist to knock again.

His bottle-blue eyes regard her seriously.

"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong -"

Annabeth interrupts him boldly, "If you're looking for Jace than this is the right place."

He stopped. His eyes narrow, and he surveys her.

Takes in her long, curly hair; her beaded necklace, her hollow cheeks. She's tall, and her eyes are intense.

"Oh. And who are you?"

"I'm Annabeth. I could ask the same?"

"Alec. I'm…a friend…of Jace's. May I ask where he is?"

She can't find any sign of monster on him, so she lets him in. It's still a little risky, but she is more than capable of handling one stranger.

"We're low on milk. He went out to grab some."

This man, Alec, blinks. "Jace is on a grocery run?"

"Yes. Is there a problem with that?"

"No, no. It's just…he usually lets someone else do the chores."

"Well it's just us two, and it was his turn."

He blinks again.

"His turn? Do you mean to say you live here? With Jace?"

Her severe grey eye leave him feeling feeble - something no one but his mother can still accomplish. He wonders how Jace manages to look into those storm eyes.

"I do. I moved in almost a month ago."

"Oh."

Alec shuffles his feet, tries to subtly take in the room. He doesn't think he's really succeeding, but Annabeth politely doesn't comment.

Her voice is no nonsense when she speaks again, and Alec is once again feeling very small.

"You're Jace's friend? He hasn't mentioned you."

She knows that he's the same whatever that Jace is. She knows that he isn't lying.

She knows it, but she could play this to her advantage.

"Oh he hasn't? Um, we're close friends. Grew up together."

She raised one blonde eyebrow, crossed her arms.

"And you don't even know where he lives?"

"I know where he lives! I came to your door didn't I?" Alec protested.

"And you thought you had the wrong door."

He looked away. "Well, Jace and I haven't talked much as of late."

"Hmm."

"Really! I know him. He's blonde. Bad attitude and a smart mouth."

Annabeth continued to stare him down, fighting back the smile.

"Oh, come on. I'm _not_ breaking in your house. He's my para - brother. He's like my brother."

Annabeth tucked the half-formed word 'para' into her brain. She'd look into that later.

This Alec guy was really fretting now. She decided to go easy on him.

She let the small smile tug her lips up. "I believe you. I just wanted to see you sweat."

He glared at her retreating figure.

Annabeth disappeared into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "Make yourself comfortable, Alec-the-close-friend-of-Jace."

Alec muttered incomprehensibly under his breath. His eyes flickered everywhere. Briefly landing on one thing then dancing to the next.

He took in the cushions of the couch, and the stack of books on the coffee table - none of which had anything to do with demon killing. There is a ladder in the corner with newspapers and a paint can under it.

"Jace is fixing the ceiling."

Alec can't contain his flinch. He's not used to being snuck up on by mundanes.

Then again, he's not used to spending much time with any mundane. Except for Simon, who didn't count anymore.

Alec didn't say anything. Annabeth raised her eyebrows.

"You're supposed to ask why. It kind of helps with the whole small talk thing."

Alec wrung his hands together, still not saying anything. Annabeth sighed, holding a glass out to him.

He stared at it for a minute too long.

"It's just lemonade. It's not poisoned. See? I have one too."

Alec took it sheepishly.

Annabeth jerked her chin toward the ladder.

"It had an old water stain on the roof. We decided that is was just damn depressing to look at everyday. We have enough of that on our own."

His blue eyes stayed trained on her, studying her, and Annabeth looked right back at him.

Alec looked out of place here in her and Jace's place.

He's too big for it, too mystical with his swirling black tattoos and strangely bright eyes.

She used to think Jace was too different for it, but the more she looked the more she decided he fit here.

Jace fits here. She fits here. Alec does not.

He moves nervously on his feet and Annabeth notices that the same grace that is in Jace's movements is in Alec's.

He clears his throat, asks, "How do you know Jace?"

"Met in a bar. He brought me here, and I never left."

"Well I'm Alec Lightwood, and you're Annabeth…?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Oh."

Her lips turn up at his expression. "Don't take offense. Jace doesn't know my last name either."

The baffled look that crosses his face forces her to suppress her laugh.

"But…you are living together?" He ends it like a question.

"Yep."

"And he doesn't know your last name."

"He's never asked."

Alec doesn't say anything so she offers, "And I don't know his. It's not how it works between us. To ask questions."

"Not even last names?"

"Not even."

He's off-balance, and out of his element. He doesn't know what to think of this girl, and the Jace that she knows.

"Is Jace going to be back soon?"

"Maybe. He left half an hour ago. The store is only about ten minutes away."

"So any minute now."

"Maybe."

It occurs to him how strange this is. Standing in a small apartment. _Jace's_ small apartment; trading awkward words with a girl he doesn't know.

A girl who isn't…isn't Clary.

And a girl who knows the Jace of late better than he does.

Maybe he should sit, and it wouldn't be so awkward. But she's standing too, and showing no signs of sitting.

"Maybe?"

"He might need a break."

"From what? From you?"

She raises that blonde eyebrow again.

"From everything."

Alec, pent up bitterness and frustration overflowing, bit out, "Isn't that what this place is? Living in denial in this apartment with you?"

The only sign of anger shown would maybe be her grey eyes being just a little harder to meet.

Whatever she might have said is lost when the door swings open.

Right on Alec's head.

"Ouch!"

He turned, glaring; only faltering slightly when he met Jace's eyes.

The bastard. He meant to do that.

Alec hears Annabeth's giggle muffled by her hand.

Bastard.

It's been months since he's seen Jace in person. Months.

He's the same isn't he? Same golden face covered with cold wit.

But the shadows below his eyes are darker than ever, his steps heavier, his words sharper.

Alec meets his eyes steadily, and Jace's don't even flicker with acknowledgement.

Jace is still looking at him levelly when he speaks to Annabeth.

"Got the milk. Had to fight an old lady over it."

"Again, Jace? I know you are just picking fights with her."

"She started it."

They just keep looking at each other until Annabeth clears her throat.

"I'm going to go."

Jace finally moves, walking around Alec like he's not even there.

He doesn't say anything to stop her. No, 'You don't have to' or 'I want you here'. Because this is how they work. This is what they have.

He puts the milk up and when he comes back she's grabbed her laptop. The really strange one that she never uses when he's around. So he knows where she's going.

"Send your friends my love."

She scoffs. "They'll love that."

Jace falls into the chair, watches her move past Alec.

He likes that Alec doesn't seem to know what to make of her. Likes the way he moves so that he's not in her way.

"Bye Jace. Bye Alec."

She pauses halfway out the door and Jace knows what's coming.

"Do try to get the stick out of your ass Alec. For me?"

Then she's gone, and Jace is left with a half-grin and Alec.

"Where is she going?"

"I don't know."

"You knew she was going to her friends."

Jace's fingers drummed slowly on the chair.

"I don't know where she's going."

Alec fretted.

"Does Isabelle know you found me?"

"Do you think she wouldn't be here if she did?'

"Good."

.~.

Annabeth had her laptop again the next day. She weaved through the people on the street, carefully holding it in her hands.

Her New York Yankees cap, which had never started working again, was on her head.

She felt almost like her old self with this hat. Her hair pulled up in a ponytail.

It was refreshing, but it hurt. She expected Percy to be right there next to her.

This is why she never wore it around Jace. Her two worlds colliding.

But she's going to see the others, and she knows it'll make them feel better.

_Oh look Annabeth is wearing her old cap. She's doing better. She's moving on. Maybe she's not so crazy anymore._

She's nearly there. Thalia's tree in sight, the dragon snoozing beneath it.

"Annabeth."

She stops immediately. She rotates, hand instinctively reaching toward her knife.

It's Alec. He's dressed head to toe in some form of fighting gear. She's never seen anything like it.

She narrows her eyes, forces herself not to glance back toward Camp Half-Blood.

Annabeth brushed her hair out of her face; forced a smile.

"Alec. You scared me."

He doesn't say anything back.

He's covered in the same swirling patterns. And there are places in his gear where she's sure weapons usually go.

She doesn't want to alert him to where the camp is, so she stops herself from putting herself between him and it.

"What do you want?"

"What are you?" His eyes are dark.

She breathes a laugh. "I could ask you the same."

His eyes narrow, his fists clench.

"You're not a downworlder."

Now it's her eyes that narrow. They're reflecting each other, almost circling but not quite. The mortals on the street give them odd glances but continue on their way. It is New York after all.

She has no clue what that is, but she isn't going to let him know that.

"No. I'm not."

"You're not a mundane."

That takes her aback. "A what?"

He scoffs.

"A mundane. A human."

So whatever he is. Whatever…whatever Jace is…isn't human.

She's known this. She's not an idiot. She's known this from the moment they walked out of the bar together.

But it still hits her in her gut.

Her face stays neutral.

"We don't call them that."

"We?"

This whole situation strikes her as melodramatic and she plays it up a bit.

"My kind."

And Alec, who first accused her of not being human, looks shocked.

"So you really aren't human."

"Well I thought you already had that figured out."

She's exhausted all the sudden. Tired of everything, and his jet black hair is just a bit too much like Percy's.

Her heart aches.

"Look, just leave us alone. I know that Jace is something else. He knows that I'm something else. We're living together. We're…surviving together. Leave us be. I'm sure Jace told you the same yesterday. And don't ever follow me again. We'll have a problem if you do."

She can't walk away towards camp, so she makes for the coffee shop on the corner.

She's got him behind her when he calls out.

"He won't ever love you."

Her anger spikes. She turns on her heel. "What?"

Alec looks just as tired as she feels. "He's my best friend. Has been for years. But for almost a year now he's been gone. And not just physically. He's not the same."

Annabeth feels like running. She's not supposed to know any of this. This isn't how they work. But her curiosity is overflowing and her feet stay rooted to the ground.

Alec sighed.

"Look, something happened. It…it destroyed Jace. I didn't know if he'd make it, but I knew if he did he wouldn't be the same. So you should know. That he doesn't love you. He only ever loved her. And she's gone."

The pounding of her heart can't drown out the pounding of the name in her ears.

_Clary_

Alec is still talking. "Just…don't let him do anything stupid, okay?"

She curses her weakness. "Who?"

Alec studies her closely, and his voice isn't different when he opens his mouth. Regretful. Sad.

"Clary Fray."

She doesn't go home to Jace. She can't bear to.

But she doesn't want to face the questions. She needs only one thing now.

Annabeth drops her hat, and her priceless laptop, and her dagger. She ignores the stares.

When the door shuts behind her, she breaths in the salty air. She doesn't cry until she's under the covers.

.~.

Jace is furious. He bursts through the gates of the institute.

He's avoided this place for months but he doesn't think twice when he storms in.

"Alec!"

Isabelle drops her plate, gasping.

He sees her first. She runs around the corner; her eyes as wide as saucers. He hasn't seen her in months. He should feel more than he does.

"Where's Alec?"

Jace _feels_ rather than sees him coming from the other hall. He spins, seething.

"Jace?"

"She didn't come home. What did you do?"

Alec looks shocked, antsy.

"Jace…"

"What did you do!?"

.~.

Annabeth stays in the Poseidon cabin for two days and nights. She doesn't go outside. She can't bear to face them.

Someone drops food off three times a day at her doorstep, but they always come back to find it still there.

"Annabeth please eat."

It's Piper this time.

"Annabeth, you have to eat."

There's no answer.

She does go home. It's been two days, and the puffiness under her eyes has finally disappeared.

Jace is painting when she walks in. The water stain has long been fixed, but they'd both decided that the plain white walls needed to go.

To Annabeth is was too cold. To Jace it was too familiar.

His hand stops only briefly when she opens the door.

She's not the same Annabeth. She can't be. She lost Percy

_Clary Fray._

Jace isn't the same Jace. He can't be. He lost Clary.

She breathes deeply; does what they both know she has to do.

"Percy Jackson."

Jace stops. Turns.

"His name is Percy Jackson. He went missing once before. For months, but he came back. This time he's not."

She keeps her voice even, but her eyes water.

"I'm not who I was before."

Now everything is in balance. He knows about her what she knows about him. If she'd left it there, they probably never would have gone further.

But she didn't.

"My name is Annabeth Chase. I'm not a mundane. Percy wasn't either."

She sits on the couch, stares at the wall.

"We met when we were twelve. At this…summer camp."

She can't bring herself to bare anymore. She's opened up enough. More than enough. This will only work with balance.

Jace stays silent.

.~.

Two nights later she's drifting off when he whispers, "Clary Fray."

She opens her eyes, sees the gold of his in the dark of the room. He's so broken. The fragility in his gaze makes her heart ache.

"She's been in trouble before. But she's gotten out of it. This time…she's not. She's not."

He stares into her eyes, but she feels that he's not really seeing her.

"I'm not who I was before."

She ignores the tear leaking out of her eye. It seems to rouse Jace out of his stupor. He reaches out slowly to wipe it away.

"My name is Jace Herondale. My name is Jace Lightwood. I'm not a mortal. Clary wasn't either."

She thinks its purposeful. How his words reflect her earlier ones.

"We met when she was fifteen. We met at a nightclub."

The silence wraps around them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So yeah that's it...I only really have the basics to say: enjoy, stay open-minded, have a great day, and review :)**


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